


Wheelbarrows

by warsfeil



Category: Uncharted
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warsfeil/pseuds/warsfeil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flynn and Nate screw and a wheelbarrow is involved. It's not the brightest decision, but who plans this stuff out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wheelbarrows

What was going to be fun was trying to explain the bruises to Sully, Nate thought. He thought it and then it was gone before he could even try to think of a convincing story, because that's what thoughts do, when you were in the middle of getting fucked senseless, bent over a wheelbarrow.

A _wheelbarrow_ , for god's sake, but-- hn, Nate couldn't actually bring himself to care. His chest was pressed across it and he was half-supporting himself on his elbows and Flynn, _god_ , Nate definitely didn't care.

"Flynn--" he said, and his voice came out hoarse and louder than he intended. Nate's nails scratched at the rust on the wheelbarrow and he briefly regretted that they didn't have the foresight to find a bed or something more decent to have sex on, oh no, they were fucking in a _rusty wheelbarrow_ and he was going to have to get a tetanus shot after this. His knees hit the side of the wheelbarrow with every thrust Flynn gave.

"Yes, mate?" Flynn asked, and he was trying for that cocky voice, Nate could tell, but it wasn't working all that well. Not when Flynn sounded like he'd just run a marathon (and really, they practically had; Nate's gun was still warm on the ground next to him, and he could feel the slight stickiness of Flynn's cut hand on his hip.) 

Now that he was called on it, Nate didn't know what he was supposed to say. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Actually, he hadn't really planned on any of this, from the part where he was ambushed trying to get the statuette down to the part where he was getting _fucked in a rusty wheelbarrow_ (and maybe at some point that would stop causing laughter to bubble up in his chest and come out a moan.)

"Keep going," Nate demanded, finally, breathless. He tried for demanding, anyway, but it probably came out more as pleading, under the circumstances, but -- _god_ , he wanted more. He wanted Flynn to keep moving, to keep hitting inside of him and fuck, but Nate always marveled a little at how the human body suddenly found things sexy when aroused when normally they were gross, and-- and who carried condoms around with them, anyway?!

"Served me well, didn't it?" Flynn replied, and Nate realized that he'd been talking out loud. He hadn't really been paying attention. He was surprised he managed it. Usually when he tried to talk during these moments, everything came out as a moan.

Proving the point, Nate opened his mouth to respond at the same time that Harry reached around, wrapping his hand around Nate's cock, and all that came out of Nate's mouth was a moan. 

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , but it felt good. He shifted slightly, and the fact that he was resting precariously against a wheelbarrow must have temporarily slipped his mind because the action had a domino effect: first the wheelbarrow went on its side, then Nate fell down with it, then Flynn fell down on top of him.

"-- _Fuck_!" Flynn managed to get out, spinning his fall so he didn't wind up crushing Nate or impaling him with his cock. Nate was grateful, really; the injuries to his pride and person were already high enough, as he slid down the overturned wheelbarrow to curl painfully on the ground. No, it was fine, really; Nate didn't need his balls for anything. Gun fight was already over, right? They would be just fine. He just needed a few minutes, really, until the blinding pain would fade and he'd be able to. Do something. Maybe not sex.

Definitely not sex on a wheelbarrow.

"Goddamn," Flynn muttered, shifting beside Nate and finally moving to lower himself into Nate's field of vision. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Yeah, sure! Just fine, just -- it's not like I just got crushed dick-first between a _wheelbarrow and a hard place_ or anything, Flynn," Nate said, and if his voice came out a little higher than normal, _well_ , that was completely understandable, under the circumstances. Why was Flynn still wearing his shirt, anyway? 

"In retrospect, that might not have been the best place to rendezvous."

" _You think_?"

Flynn smiled, and it was a wicked little thing. It made all the blood rush straight back down to Nate's cock again, and he hissed quietly. It worked wonders for relieving the pain, at least.

"Let me make it up to you." 

Then Flynn was suddenly moving forwards, wrapping his hands around Nate's cock and pulling-- just lightly, just enough to make Nate groan in a considerably more pleasurable manner. He leaned in, and--

"Oh, no, Flynn, come on, there's rust everywhere, and-- oh--"

Maybe Nate shouldn't be complaining quite so much. He noted, in some far off portion of his brain that wasn't being preoccupied by pleasure, that Flynn should probably get a tetanus shot too, after this. The last thing Nate wanted was for either of them to get tetanus of the dick or something. Worst case scenario, of course. How likely was _that_ to happen?

"--ah--"

Nate didn't get much further than that, leaning forward to curl his hands into Flynn's stupid hedgehog haircut, doing his best not to drive his hips into Flynn's mouth. He barely noticed when Flynn shifted, wrapped a hand around his own cock, because _Jesus Christ_ there were things that Harry Flynn could do with his tongue that Nate hadn't even _considered_ before.

He came with a ragged gasp, moan stuck somewhere in his throat, and probably took a few strands of hair out on accident. It didn't seem to phase Flynn, though-- there was a soft chuckle, then Flynn seized up, finally, and Nate was glad for that, because after the entire encounter, he didn't think he would be much help at all.

They laid there for a moment, on the grass, before Nate finally spoke.

"Tetanus shots."

"What?"

"We should both get them. Just in case."

Flynn glanced at him, brow raised, and laughed a little, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, mate."

"On the subject of what I say-- next time, no wheelbarrows, okay?"

**Author's Note:**

> I declared to my friendslist that I wanted to write some Harry/Nate porn and to give me a prompt. The prompt was "oddly placed bruises". The wheelbarrow? That was all me. Can't be tamed.


End file.
